


four mistletoe kisses

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Christmas, CousyWinter, Director Daisy Johnson, F/M, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 06:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13141353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: Written for #CousyWinter at johnsonandcoulson.comPrompt: "while on a case during Christmas Daisy & Coulson visit the house of some accidental witnesses only to find themselves under the mistletoe, and The Most Awkward Moment Ever ensues"





	four mistletoe kisses

Both fancy and tacky Christmas decorations spilled over every inch of Mr Wright’s house, in a way that made Daisy feel ashamed of her meager efforts for the sake of holiday cheer back in the base, even though she and Coulson had stayed late last night putting up some lights and trinkets and even a tree. But this here? This was true Christmas spirit made living room, and Daisy had to take a moment to breathe and remind herself of the mission, because a pang of bitterweet anxiety took over, an unwelcome remembrance of all the foster families who and all the Christmas trees and the family rituals Daisy only got to see once in each house. Austere and reflective, she almost preferred Christmas at St Agnes. At least it didn’t fool you with bright colors and gifts and implied promises for next year.

Like sensing her slight, brief discomfort Coulson starts with the questions. Mr Wright’s younger brother, an Inhuman who had always cooperated with SHIELD and the Accords, has suddenly disappear off the radar, his location and biometrics turned off. She wouldn’t normally worry - she had made a point of not persecuting Accords-breakers since she became Director, which, yeah, that made her super popular with other agencies. But this subject has never been any trouble, so she’s worried something might have happened to him; especially with harassment and violence against Inhumans on the rise in the last few months.

“Are you sure Jake hasn’t contacted you?” Daisy picks up the questioning.

Jake’s older brother shakes his head.

“No, I didn’t even know he was…” the man makes a hand gesture, the kind of well-meaning but offensive euphemism for people like Daisy. “Is he in trouble?”

“We don’t think so,” Daisy tells him.

“And if he is in trouble, we’ll get him out of it,” Coulson adds.

Mr Wright nods, pensive.

“I have his girlfriend’s address, from a while back. I don’t know if it’ll help-”

“We’d appreciate it,” Daisy says.

“Give me a minute.”

They watch as the man leaves the room and then they hear it go down some stairs, to the basement probably. Once he is out of earshot Daisy turns to Coulson and gives him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry to drag you out here on Christmas Eve,” she says.

Coulson kindly shakes his head in reply. Daisy knows he doesn’t mind but she still feels like asking forgiveness every time she gives an order to anyone, especially to someone who had been her boss for so long, and until recently.

Suburban area upon suburban area they would have had to leave the Quinjet at some distance anyway, so they decided to drive upstate anyone. It took them a little over an hour, in depressing damp weather. Not very Christmassy at all.

“I think I’m getting all the Christmas spirit I need right in this room,” Coulson comments, looking around the living room, its decor.

Daisy chuckles.

“Yeah, they went a bit overblown.”

“A bit aggressive,” Coulson adds, frowning a bit.

Daisy wonders, because he must have grown up in an era and a place where family stuff like holidays must have been a big deal. Or maybe not - he grew up in the 60s and 70s, there was plenty of rebellion against the family institution there. But knowing Coulson she imagines he was pretty spoiled in that sense, some kind of idyllic version of Christmas Daisy herself never knew, or he was until his father died, anyway.

She looks around too, trying to shake that thought, because it feels a bit weird standing here fantasizing about what kind of childhood your colleague had when he’s right next to you.

Something catches her eye, almost making her laugh.

“Look,” she says, pointing above their heads, right next to the doorframe. “They even put up some mistletoe. Who does that?”

Coulson looks up at the mistletoe and then back at Daisy, with a curious look. Daisy realizes - oh right, mistletoe. She gets weirdly embarrassed.

“No, I didn’t-” she doesn’t even finish the thought. She chuckles awkwardly and turns her face from Coulson.

Coulson just stands there, oozing professionality and… well, whatever the opposite of awkward is. Of course he wouldn’t think anything of it, it would be like a joke. Daisy is not looking at him right now, but he probably has that sort of nice half-smile he gives her a lot, the one he uses whenever Daisy is stressed or worried or (she guesses) being ridiculous. She normally appreciates it, but it pisses her off a bit right now. She’s the Director of SHIELD, she can joke about some stupid mistletoe like the best - she used to be so good at this, too. She used to be the one teasing others about getting flushed over stuff.

She makes a quick decision.

Daisy steps sideways towards Coulson, resting one hand on his elbow and leaning so that her lips brush - barely brush, but it still counts - against Coulson’s cheek. It’s weird, cause it’s not like they haven’t been this close before (close enough she can smell his nice, unassuming cologne), but it’s normally when one of them is/has been in mortal danger. This feels heavier somehow, despite the lightness of her touch.

(it also feels weirdly good, Daisy thinks, because of that lightness, and she realizes she would like more of that in her life, of lightness, softness, Coulson so close she can smell him without having to worry someone is about to die)

When she pulls back Coulson’s eyes are not comically wide like she was expecting. He looks slightly confused only, like he’s waiting for an explanation.

“Mistletoe,” Daisy mutters.

Coulson blinks at her.

She covers her mouth with her hands, wanting to take back the gesture, but it’s too late.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t right of me,” she says. “I’m your superior, you should probably report me for attacking you or-”

“Daisy, it’s fine,” Coulson replies. “Happy holidays.”

He leans towards her, all smooth and surprising and plants one kiss on her cheek. Like she did to him, but way better, more confident. 

Daisy blushes, and want to experience it again. All of it. Down the corridor she hears Mr Wright walking back towards the living room. She makes a split-second decision, grabbing Coulson by the arm and pulling him against her, pressing her mouth against his cheek once more, as if this had become competitive for her.

It’s pretty satisfactory when she sees his eyes widen in surprise. He’s wrong-footed, not a look that’s usual for Coulson. Daisy smirks at him, knowing he has not time to retaliate before the owner of the house (and the mistletoe) appears.

“Found it,” Mr Wright says, handing them a piece of paper with his brother’s address on it.

Daisy steals a sideways glance. Coulson is once more in his perfect professional mode, thanking their host and promising again that they’ll help his brother. But there’s a little stunned pink on his face, and Daisy feels smug and happy about it.

 

+

 

He should probably be having some rest already, not finishing up some paperwork in his room in the Zephyr - at this point he prefers this place to his quarters in the base, even when the plane is parked like now. The bunks are bigger than the old ones in the Bus, but there’s barely room for a small work desk and a chair next to the bed. And well, he doesn’t have the Director’s office either, he thinks with some pleasure. Daisy is probably there right now, burning the midnight oil. She was a hardworking agent, but as Director she seems to be doubling down.

Which is the reason why he liked seeing her loosen up for a moment this afternoon at the Wright residence. Enjoy herself with some silly Christmas impulse. Coulson remembers and touches his cheek, like some sappy schoolboy. He feels vaguely ashamed about it,but perhaps not as much as he would have years ago. He had promised nothing was going to change when she took became his boss, but it obviously has…

He shakes his head, thankful for the day he’d had as it is. Driving with Daisy for hours, talking, getting annoyed at the anti-Inhuman propaganda on the radio, discovering compatible musical tastes, working together on a case that didn’t involve them being on edge like usual… Coulson had felt guilty when Daisy apologized for taking up his Christmas Eve, because truth was he had been enjoying the day.

He hears some footsteps coming his way.

Daisy knocks on his door. Even though it’s open.

Coulson stands up from his chair, almost standing to attention.

“We had locals contact the girlfriend, she hasn’t seen Jake in a while, but he’s contacted her by phone, she expects he will again, so I’m sending a team over tomorrow to keep an eye,” she tells Coulson. “I just wanted to give you an update.”

He nods, thinking about all the little bureaucratic work like phone calls to local law enforcement and follow up that used to be his responsibility until recently. He doesn’t miss it, he’s happy just to do whatever Daisy tells him to do. So many years of diplomacy, now it’s her turn.

“Thank you,” he says.

Daisy stands there, stepped inside his bunk, hands behind her. She’s not leaving or saying anything else for now.

He gives her a curious glance.

“Also…” she says, producing a branch of fake mistletoe from behind her back. “I stole this from the common room.”

Coulson barely has time to widen his eyes as way of a question before Daisy has come up to him and pressed her mouth to his. He sighs with unexpected relief. It’s soft, very soft, like that first kiss she gave him on the cheek back at Mr Wright’s house, like she is not sure he is going to like it. He likes it. He likes it very much. As much as any normal person would like a kiss from Daisy Johnson. He smiles at the idea of being that for a moment, not Coulson, not _her_ Coulson, just a regular guy lucky enough to be kissed by Daisy. If he had ever imagined something like this (and he has, though he won’t admit it, only a couple of innocent times) he thought he’d be gripped by guilt, scared of being too old for her, too incompatible. But now he is not thinking about any of that, he doesn’t feel ambiguous about the moment at all.

Daisy breaks the kiss, touch still soft as a feather. “Is this okay?” she whispers, her eyes shining with fear. Coulson nods slowly and she kisses him again, a little more confident, and very enthusiastic. He smiles against her mouth, against her own smile. Coulson is not used to such unadulterated joy, his hands wrap around Daisy’s waist gently, to anchor himself a bit, he feels light, lightheaded, lighthearted.

“You know you didn’t need the mistletoe for this…” he says.

“Humor me, I’m a shy girl,” Daisy tells him.

He chuckles and takes her head in his hands, kissing her back with brief, quick kisses that make Daisy smile.They stay like that for several minutes, on their feet, mistletoe dropped on the floor, trying many varieties of kisses on each other, kisses made loud by the fact they are in an empty plane inside a mostly empty base. This was supposed to be another lonely Christmas Eve for both of them. He grabs her hands, entwining their fingers, playfully. It all feels so innocent. Until it doesn’t.

And then Daisy maneuvers them both against the bed, careful not to break the kiss as Coulson sits down and Daisy leans over, knee between his legs, pressed against his crotch with obvious intent.

“Not too shy now…”

“I’m warming up,” she replies.

“Good. It’s Christmas. You should… mmm… stay warm.”

He almost winces at how stupid that sounds.

Daisy smiles. “And I think we should both shut up.”

Coulson agrees and laughs out loud. How long has it been since he’s laugh in bed with someone? Because they are not lying on it just yet, but they are in bed. This is going to happen. Daisy is running her hands over his chest as she keeps kissing him, as she hoists her body up his bed, gently straddling him where he sits at the edge. He holds her, his hands on the small of her back, making Daisy laugh into his mouth when they go to her ass, Daisy’s fingers running through his head, still that soft touch she’s used before, going back and forth between a very Daisy boldness and an even more Daisy doubt, like she is still worried she might scare the moment away. He kisses her like telling her he’s not going anywhere, and she seems to understand because her body becomes heavier over his, heavier in the best possible sense, and Coulson dares to move his thigh between her legs, giving her some chance for friction, and Daisy rewards him with a soundless gasp of pleasure.

He breaks the pact of silence for a very mundane reason.

“Are we… safe?”

Daisy nods.

“Mistletoe is not the only thing I brought with me.”

She shows him what she means, peeking out of the pocket of her jeans. Coulson smiles and then he feels even more lightheaded than before, the idea that Daisy came to his bunk _prepared_ , already thinking about having sex with her, or at least the possibility that it might end up like this. It’s arousing and overwhelming and the image of Daisy walking here with mistletoe and condoms and with hope sort of floors him with how much he feels for her.

“I hope…” he tries to say between kisses. “That after all these years… I hope it’s obvious how much I love you.”

Daisy stops kissing him and draws back to look him in the eye, very seriously, as if considering his sincerity.

“Yeah, it’s obvious,” she says, almost heavily, not smug or flirty.

Coulson brings his hands to her shoulders, along her spine, pulling her closer, moving his mouth, hot, over her neck.

“Then let me show you…”

He feels her shiver - in a good way. How long had it been since he’d made someone shiver in bed?

“You’re warming up too,” she says. “Maybe no more shutting up.”

“Okay,” Coulson agrees. 

He will have no trouble with that.


End file.
